


Lost In Translation

by StinkyPinkDinosaur



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: AMAB Bloodhound (Apex Legends), Angst, Bloodhound in a dress, Bloodhound's Face (Apex Legends), Blowjobs, Caring Elliott Witt, Consensual Sex, Dating, Developing Relationship, Emotional bloodhound, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Other, Sex, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, so so so much fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:48:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25171876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StinkyPinkDinosaur/pseuds/StinkyPinkDinosaur
Summary: Many people who met them assumed Bloodhound was cold, shy or emotionless. This wasn't true at all, but for now, that suited them just fine. The Allfather had lead them to compete in the Apex Games, and relationships beyond basic teamwork were not required. They were a fierce, formidable hunter, sent from the gods themselves to honour them in slatra and victory.The existence of one Elliott Witt decided to ruin that. Nonsense and sexual tension ensue...P.S: sorry for the terrible google translate Icelandic, feel free to correct me <3
Relationships: Bloodhound/Mirage | Elliott Witt, miragehound - Relationship
Comments: 12
Kudos: 110





	1. The ring is no place for Love

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome! Enjoy your stay <3

The dropship shook with the familiar turbulence, signalling the journey was almost over. Artur's cage rattled against the wall of Bloodhound's compartment and the bird cawed in protest. Bloodhound stood from the small bench and desk they had been writing at and flicked the front open easily.

"Því miður vinur, there are rules." As they turned to sit back at their desk, Artur hopped from the cage to their shoulder, nestling happily in the fur-lined collar, and tapping their beak against the rim of the hunter's goggles. In a well-practised response, Bloodhound took a pumpkin seed from a small pouch at their side and raised it to the bird's beak.

"We will be there soon." Another quiet caw as the hunter scratched the side of their companions face, before returning to look down at what they had been writing.

A journal, of sorts. Thoughts and ideas on paper had always given them some clarity to Bloodhound, much so when their parents had passed. Artur, the original, had given them their first - a stunning leather-bound book, handmade by someone of their people - to help with the emotions roaring and screaming through the young hunter. One of the many things they had learned from their departed mentor - that ignoring one's feelings can cause more problems than one began with.

The current book, one of the few luxuries Bloodhound bought for themselves, was bound in thick, black stained leather and was tied closed with a silver clasp. It lay open on the small desk, to the current page. They had been recounting their previous victory, the words filling them with pride and eagerness for the next Game. They continued, mind lingering over the few mistakes made, as to not repeat them. Not that others would notice, but these little mistakes had become far too frequent for their liking.

Their gaze not always directed where it should, their breathing not as steady when aiming a shot, their focus not entirely in the games and those they were hunting. It was infuriating for the seasoned hunter, and more than a few times they had to clear their head after a clutch loss. Not because they were a sore loser, the hunt was a thrill, victory or not - but because their mind had wandered so far in those last moments they needed to package it away neatly in their mind before moving on.

Why had these issues arisen? The hunter knew exactly why. But admitting so was not something they were ready to do.

Their pen slowed as they wrote his name, carefully and as neatly as they could. They scowled beneath their mask when they noticed the name now stood out amongst the rushed cursive on the rest of the page. They sat back a little, letting out a long sigh.

"Whatchya writing, Hound?"

The hunter's head snapped around and their body followed, knocking the bench over in the process and almost throwing Artur off their shoulders. The speaker had caught them by surprise.

"Woah! Woah just me! ahaa," Elliott Witt stood in the entrance to their compartment of the ship, and Bloodhound relaxed. They bent to stand the bench up again with a soft sigh. "I didn't mean to..a-are you alright?"

The stutter was endearing. Bloodhound stood to face him and crossed their arms over their chest, trying to appear unphased.

"What brings you felagi?" They ask.

Elliott, seemingly vanishing any concern from his face, brought one arm above his head to lean on the doorway, pulling that signature Mirage smile from nowhere and running a hand through his hair. It was a well-practised routine, the hunter had noticed - like an odd habit Mirage had right before he began some stupid new pickup line.

"You and I got a date," He points his arm lazily towards the screen in the corridor, displaying today's team selections. Sure enough, Mirage, Bloodhound and Crypto had been selected. "Thought I'd come to pick you up." He grinned, pleased with himself.

Bloodhound glanced at the screen for a moment, briefly wondering if Elliott would, in fact, be a gentleman on a date. Before turning quickly to pick up their gloves from the desk, taking a moment to delicately close the journal.

Their fingers dragged over the leather one last time, willing their mind into some kind of focus, before swallowing and turning away.

Elliott stood in the door, hastily rearranging his suit incase it looked awkward, his face anxious as Bloodhound shut their door. Elliott looked up at the sound and held out an arm, smirking once again.

Bloodhound clicked at him, pushing the arm away gently, before pulling on their gloves and leading the way. 

Elliott stood for a moment, feeling a little offended. He's one hell of a piece of arm candy, and he knows it. But then, Bloodhound had a certain reputation to keep up in front of the other Legends, and Mirage didn't exactly fit their mysterious and stoic vibe. Pushing those thoughts aside, he strides on to catch up with them.

"So, any pre-game strategies? Game-plans? Thinking we should uh, y'know, keep our distance given you guys like your long-distance work- O-or-or go right for it if your comfortable, you're both perfectly capable, tch - more than capable in your case," Bloodhound felt the tiniest swelling of pride in their chest, desperately trying to ignore how cute Mirage's babbling was when he was nervous.

"I mean working with you has been incredible, I've learned so much - though I'm sure I've taught you a thing or two, though gotta say we make a pretty unsurplass- unspur-"

"Unsurpassable." Crypto joined their approach to the drop zones of the ship, now a few feet away.

"Right! We're pretty great. You're not too bad either Crypto, but I gotta say I think Hound's got one up on your fancy gadgets and such,"

"Sure, old man,"

"There's no need f-for that." Then under his breath; "Dick."

Crypto bristled and turned towards Elliott behind them, Bloodhound stopped walking, putting themself between the two and looking down at Crypto.

"Focus on the game, Felagi, his words are often just decoration." Crypto's face slowly untwisted, and quietly stepped onto the drop pad.

Elliott joined him as Bloodhound did, fidgeting and wringing his hands. "What do you mean decoration?" he said, softly, as if not meaning for anyone else to hear.

The drop pads were filling up, Bloodhound began to take note of who had who on their team; Bangalore, Pathfinder, Wraith - heavy-hitting and easy to lose track of in a busy fight. Revenant, Loba and Gibraltar - another powerful set up, but they doubted they'd have enough stability as a team, even with Makoa there to mediate. Octane, Lifeline and Caustic - unpredictable and strategic, they'd have to watch out for those. 

Their thoughts were interrupted by more mumbling from Mirage, still fidgeting and messing with some strap of his jumpsuit. Bloodhound could understand his nerves, though it was almost always forgotten the moment they landed. They glanced to Crypto, who was staring into a tablet of sorts, before turning back to Elliott.

His lip was between his teeth and his hands running through his hair. Their breath caught for just a second when he looked up at them, through long, dark lashes. They let their gaze linger just a second too long, allowing one, split-second glance over his body, at the curves the suit hugged tightly against and the straps that ran across the well-trained muscle.

Mirage shrugged under their gaze. "Pre-game jitters, just uh- waiting for that adrenaline to...kick in...heh heh." 

Bloodhound swallowed thickly, once again pulling their mind back to the game, giving him a timid pat on the shoulder, in an attempt at reassurance.

Mirage smiled, though did not miss the roll of Crypto's eyes from behind the hunter, nor the raised eyebrow from Wraith across the room as he anxiously looked around. The others had noticed a few too many soft smiles in Bloodhound's direction, it was becoming a problem.

An obvious problem. He had tried time and time again to reel in those dangerous feelings, but the dark, mysterious hunter had some kind of power over him. Their soothing voice, calm even in the most hectic of moments, spoke with such wisdom and patience. Few people would put up with his bullshit as they did, at least not without retaliation.

They were sweet, kind and respectful to everyone, praising his fighting skills often, sending a blush across his cheeks no one else was allowed to see. The fierceness the hunter fought with was something to be marvelled, never failing to flawlessly clean up team after team and hastily returning to his side once he'd been downed. He treasured those moments, strong arm around his shoulders and their heated body against his, selfishly wondering if they got a little closer than necessary.

He'd often had to shake himself clear of a number of impure thoughts once the meds kicked in.

A loud sired blaring signalled the arrival of the ship to the arena. Mirage shook himself head to toe and grinned around the room at his competitors. 

"You're all coming to my victory party tonight, right guys?" He quipped, as the shutter doors opened and the wind whipped up past his ears, drowning out any possible comebacks. That didn't stop Octane from giving him the double finger as he fell backwards from the drop pad.

Team comms clicked into action and Crypto took little time to pick out a landing spot. With one last deep breath, adrenaline finally flowing through his body, he sent a wink over to Bloodhound.

"Better see you at that party." And he was falling through the air, once again.

* * *

A close Victory. Too close. All attempts to focus had failed Bloodhound during the game and left them frustrated and hot. Three times they had been revived by Mirage, each time his hands dragged over their chest, breath hot on their face, slowly pulling away from their hand as he helped them to their feet, gaze soft and steady as he quipped some flirtatious line about them owing him dinner. Each time they tore their eyes away from the panting, flushed and sweat-covered man and scrambled for health kits or shield batteries - desperate for a distraction.

Mirage and Crypto together had 20 kills, leaving Bloodhound with just 4 - their lowest ever. The moment they had arrived back on the dropship, scowling as Mirage swayed his way into the communal area, gleefully recounting his win, Bloodhound made a beeline for their small compartment. They shut their door a little more harshly than intended and sat down, pulling their mask from their face and throwing it to the floor in anger.

He was getting in their way. Like some dark temptation trying to pull them from their path. They were renowned for their focus and strategy in the games, but anyone watching today could tell they were a mess. It wasn't always the flirting, or the touches, or the soft smiles or the way his hips swayed when he walked as he did, it was that fact it wasn't just for them.

It was everyone.

It was no secret Mirage was a flirt - other legends, fans, strangers even. It was just part of the character, they knew that. But their own feelings had their thoughts twisting his intentions, eating up every word he said and fueling this ridiculous crush they had developed. Accept it wasn't really just a crush anymore.

Elliott Witt could have his way with just about anyone, and he knew it. His constant suggestiveness and casual confidence captured millions of fans, with the sweet, though fleeting moments of caring softness and lean, toned body - he had the whole package. Everyone loved him, yet it would be impossible to tell the difference between his mask of a personality and actual affection, and it angered Bloodhound to no end.

He had no idea what he was doing to them. Despite brushing off his actions, his words, his looks in their direction, he would not stop. They could not focus on their hunt, their work, their task given to them by the Allfather himself. A burning sensation flooded their chest; angry, bitter, jealous. They seethed, trying to organise their thoughts - running between just confessing and having it be over within a swiftly broken heart, or letting Mirage know just how reckless he is.

A knock at the door froze their thoughts.

"Já?" The replied after a moment.

"E-every-everything alright?"

Oh gods, why now? Elliott pushed the door open just a bit and peered in, concern plastered his face.

"Fine." They let out a sigh when Elliott gave him a disapproving look. "I am tired, needed some space."

"Ah, right, cool." Elliott looked to the floor for a moment. He opened his mouth to speak but seemingly changed his mind, opening the door and stepping towards them. Bloodhound looked up from where they had been staring at their hands, watching a curious expression fall over Elliott's face.

They had their mask off.

It wasn't the first time they'd done so in front of the others, once or twice baring their full face when necessary. But Elliot hadn't had the chance to look them over like this. He felt flattered, cheeks turning pink as he dared look down over their lips. The room immediately became way too warm, as the trickster let his eyes linger just a moment too long, swallowing a lump in his throat and without thinking, reaching a hand out to place his fingers along their chin, rubbing a thumb along their cheek.

Bloodhound's mind was blank, vaguely aware of the recent anger boiling away in the back of their mind. But right now, Elliott looking down at them, his hand on their bare face giving it the most gentle caress had their heart rate skyrocket. They dared let out a steady breath, watching Elliott shiver as their breath covered his hand.

The moment was broken when Elliott met their gaze, realisation washing over him.

"Shit..." He pulled his hand away, and Bloodhound looked back to the floor, feeling their face heat up exponentially. 

"Fuck," Elliot swore under his breath, "Sorry, I just... fuck I shouldn't, h-ha -have done th-"

"Stop." Bloodhound spoke with a little too much harshness, feeling immediate regret as Elliott nodded slowly and turned to the door. His movements suddenly stiff and timid.

Before he shut the door behind him he said quietly, "I'll see you later on then, y-yeah?"

"Yes," They said quickly, eager to be alone again for at least a short while.

His face lit up unexpectedly. "Great, I'm gonna hold you to that!" and shut the door.

Bloodhound sat confused for a moment, not sure what he meant. They replayed the conversation over and over, the feeling of his soft fingertips on their face still lingering, closing their eyes and watching him standing above them like that all over again. Surely something so intimate, so gentle could not just be for anyone to witness. Their arousal from something so small was embarrassing, shaking it away before it quickly became a problem.

They focused again on his words, trying to figure out what he was "holding them to".

The Party.

Allfather.

* * *

Each of the top Legends were given high-class apartments near the Apex Games base. Each was exceedingly spacious and more than comfortable, no expenses spared for those who spent their time endlessly fighting and dying over and over, and Elliott thought rightly so. His own spanned 2 floors, above Octane's own apartment, the lower floor being a large open plan kitchen and living room, complete with sparkling disco ball, bar, full-sized and luxuriously soft sofa and shiny new sound system. All the essentials.

It was also his social space. The only part anyone properly saw. Upstairs was his workroom, bedroom and large bathroom. Each was just as much of a mess as the others and not nearly as fancy looking as what he called, "the party room". It was the only personal space he'd had in a long time and only on the few occasions drunk Elliott and a drunk companion for the night had needed the bed did he let anyone up there. The mornings after he'd felt a little violated. Not only because the stranger he'd lovingly cared for all night long would always leave him rather suddenly, but because having them there meant a lot to him.

Needless to say, it had been over a year since anything like that had happened.

Elliott finally arrived home after a busy afternoon's gloating on the dropship after their Victory. He let the door close behind him as he stretched, grinning to himself. He had a lot to be happy about - A solid win, one hell of a party to plan, and a date for said party.

Well not really a date. More like a promise to meet someone there.

Okay, not even a promise, just having tricked a person into coming really. God, he was an awful human being.

He chuckled to himself and made his way to the bedroom, heart fluttering at the thought of possibly having the infamous Bloodhound _finally_ make an appearance at one of the Legend's get-togethers. He just hoped they'd actually showed up.

His mind went back to the brief encounter back on the ship early, and his chest tightened. He'd really fucked up with that move, letting his mind run away without warning. Everything about that exchange had blood running to his dick; the softness of their skin, the light flush on their cheeks, lips so perfect, and the tone of voice used on him when they'd told him to stop his babbling...

He groaned and leant back against his now closed bedroom door, hands rubbing his eyes. They were so fucking wonderful and it was all he could do to not act a mess around them. Even the whole "confident Mirage" act was getting difficult. He wanted to see more of their face, explore more of their skin with his hands, hear more stories of their various hunts and adventures, their hopes and dreams and aspirations, he wanted to make them real for them he wanted -

Oh good god, this was getting to be a little bit more than some cute crush.

He fell to the floor and looked up at the ceiling. That was that - he wouldn't hide his affections anymore.

Not that he had tried all that hard in the first place, but now he was planning exactly how to sweep them off their feet, with full purpose and flawless execution. He stood up and began taking off his gear, glancing at his grinning face in the mirror, admiring the muscles built up across his chest as the jumpsuit was pulled from his shoulders.

His eyes caught a rather ugly scar on his abdomen, from some forgotten injury. It was enough to cause a falter in his sudden burst of confidence. He looked down and ran his fingers over the raised skin, letting out a long breath. There was always the possibility that they absolutely despised him. Rejected him. Ridiculed him. Never wanted to see him again.

Wouldn't be the first time.

He shook his head and pointed to himself in the mirror. "You're fucking gorgeous, and they'd be lucky have you." He nodded, satisfied, and added with a shrug; "You know I'd date you if I could." He let out a small laugh and continued to change, outfit already planned for the evening. God did he need to shower first though. Maybe some flowers? What drinks do they like...

* * *

Bloodhound lived not two doors down from Elliott's building, yet couldn't remember ever visiting before. Elliott had sent an invite out to all the legends, as well as many other members of staff that they'd become familiar with over the years. The message insisted they dress as sexy as they liked, along with his address and a lot of x's. Bloodhound didn't know if they should feel jealous or angry at the message.

For no one's benefit but their own, they'd decided they would absolutely dress up. Though they weren't anything if not modest, their understanding of what "sexy" looked like wasn't really their style, but they still knew how to make themselves feel desirable. There was a certain sense of power in looking good, one Bloodhound was nervous to indulge in too often, but given this was a celebration of their well-earned victory, they would allow it.

They looked down at their phone screen at the group message again, then looked back up at their very empty wardrobe. Their head turned to look around their room, equally as empty, only the basic essentials, besides a large cage for when Artur wasn't out enjoying a flight. They were practical, yes, but perhaps their savings account could use a little emptying. They had worked hard in the name of the Allfather, no shame in a reward - and definitely some new clothes.

They stepped back and sat down on the edge of the bed. They began removing their mask and goggles, placing them on the bed beside them. Soon followed their hood, helmet and large coat. They stood and stepped cautiously towards their mirror, on the inside of the wardrobe door. Their dark, red hair lay messed and tangled at their shoulders, red tattoos cutting through pale skin and jagged scars that covered a lot of the right side of their face. They found scars beautiful, personally, though was cautious of how others usually called them ugly or feared them.

They pulled off the various layers of clothing that remained until they stood in just their baggy underwear. The scars on their face curled and wound their way down their neck and shoulder, joining a myriad of other markings and tattoos that decorated their skin. Each valued, each with meaning. They turned to briefly admire their muscular frame, letting pride trickle into their mind. Elliott would be blessed to see any of this.

They shook their head. Dressing up, they insisted, was not going to be about him. It was about them, themself loving their body and revelling in a sweet and victorious hunt, no matter how messy it had been. They tossed their head back and strode to the bathroom, they needed to something with this hair.


	2. Victorious Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiya!!! Glad to see you enjoyed chapter 1, here is some more...

They held their small phone in their hand as they walked across the road to Elliott's home. It was some standard-issue, must-have communicator they had received after joining the games, which they very rarely used. They had been brought up to avoid modern technology, rightly so. Though they believed so long as they did not _need_ it to survive, there was no harm in small amounts. Their scanner in the ring, for example, their phone, the various medical equipment the Games required. Bloodhound, in the name of the Allfather, could hunt and kill just the same without it.

Yet, they looked down at Elliott's message for the twelfth time since leaving to check the address was correct.

And looked up to the door a third time before swallowing that damn nervous lump in their throat, pushing it open and heading to the staircase.

They were purposefully a good few hours late. Bloodhound had decided to forgo their mask entirely for tonight, knowing only several of the legends would even recognise them. Though still thought it best to arrive after everyone else - let whatever activities Elliott had planned to begin so they could quietly enter without notice.

They had spent that extra time battling their wild, dark red hair into thick braids, slung over one shoulder. They'd applied light covering of concealer beneath their eyes - anywhere else was fruitless given the coloured scars - eye shadow to match their hair and deep, blood-red lipstick, which filled them with fiery confidence. Enough to pull out their only dress; black, close fit turtleneck, the shoulders cut out and sleeves gathered at their wrists and the skirt finishing just below their knees. Gold piercings decorated their ears, nose and tongue, pulling their look together. No one would recognise them, and Bloodhound dared anyone unfamiliar to ask their name.

They put on a fierce face as they reached the landing, music pouring through the walls and colourful lights danced across the floor, peeking through the gap beneath the door. Bloodhound opened it quietly.

The music was loud, a deep baseline that drummed through their chest. They found bright lights from the right side of the room, colouring guests in a myriad of red and blue. The apartment was filled with people, stood at a small bar pouring drinks, dancing in front of a tall set of glowing speakers, chatting to one side. They ground their teeth together and glanced towards what appeared to be a large kitchen and living room. More people sat drinking, talking, laughing. They recognised no one, was just considering leaving when they spotted Ajay, Anita and Octane in the back of the kitchen - which was mercifully empty. They gracefully made their way over.

It wasn't people that made them nervous. People were harmless creatures, they were Blothhundr and knew they were a powerful being in their own right. But they had rules to play by now - _stupid, societal rules_ that meant they were _expected_ to be a certain way. They often felt trapped, or in some cases - _wrong._ They kept their head held high, however, knowing the Allfather would guide them through this strange world.

They finally caught Ajay's eye as the three other Legends looked up and stared for a moment, in silence. Bloodhound was, only for a moment, worried they had forgotten their face. Until Anita let out a long, low whistle and Ajay stepped forward to take their hand.

"Oh, Look at this fine, piece o' elegance I found over here," Ajay, despite being smaller, pulled their hand around their head to they would twirl. A smile crossed their lips; friendship had always been difficult, but the people they found themselves fighting against and alongside accepted all of them. It took little time to let their guard down - a small bit, at least.

"Looking goooooooooood Houndie!" Octane jumped down from where he was sitting on the counter and held out a fist. Bloodhound took a second before remembering to ball their own hand and tap his lightly. "You're getting the hang of that, amigo."

"What brings you here? I don't think I've seen you out before, let alone looking like this!" Anita laughed a little and Ajay slung a hand around their waist. They were quiet, wary of the contact and the amount of alcohol on the Medic's breath.

"I bet I can tell ya," Ajay looked up at Bloodhound and pointed, giving them a scrutinizing stare. "Elliott don' bribed you, didn't he?"

Bloodhound considered their response for a moment. "Not quite."

"I seen the way he's been eyeing you up, that boy is no good at hiding his self."

"Oh he got it baaaad, I don't think I've ever seen him so fucking cheerful as he is tonight, makes me want to barf." Octane crossed his arms and hopped back and forth on his feet.

"I... I don't quite..." Bloodhound looked back and forth between the three, who glanced at each other before Ajay burst into laughter and Octavio rolled his eyes.

"Wow, they're both completely oblivious," Anita smirked, Ajay resting a hand on her shoulder as she chuckled.

Bloodhound felt their face heat up, flustered. 

"Oh ya poor ting, Tavi, get them a good drink eh? Then imma take you dancin'!" Ajay took their hands again and swung them back and forth, mock dancing.

Octavio grinned and vaulted over the kitchen island to grab a handful of shot glasses and a bottle of something expensive looking. Bloodhound often had a whiskey or scotch when they could, but was cautious when they took the filled glass, sniffing it tentatively as the others threw their own back swiftly.

"Come oooon Houndie! don't tell me you don't drink." Octavio almost complained - childish, they thought, but it made them chuckle.

They tipped their head back and swallowed, the familiar burn of alcohol spreading through their chest. A pierced tongue darted out to swipe over their lips.

"Yes! Another, C'mon!" Octavio filled their glass again, and after another shot, they felt the shoulders relax. They wouldn't dare let it numb their senses and as Octavio and Anita began to compete to "out-drink" each other, Bloodhound had chuckled and declined another. 

"What's your poison then, Hound?" Anita asked as Octavio filled her glass again.

"Normally a kind of whiskey my people make, I ran out a short while ago, however." 

"I bet that's nice stuff, homemade has its own bite to it." Anita threw back her head in time with Octavio, swallowed and pointed over to the bar. "Bet Elliotts got some good shit hidden away, he'll share with _you_ I bet." She wriggled her eyebrows,

Bloodhound cocked their head to the side and turned to Ajay for an explanation, but simply received a roll of her eyes. 

"Just go and find the boy, will ya? He's been waiting for ya long enough. Been asking all night if we'd seen ya," She pushed their shoulder lightly. "And then you come right back here for that dance, suga!"

They let out another small chuckle and turned to the bar. They walked across the room, tall, slender and muscular frame catching more than a few eyes. They ignored the stares, unsure if meant well or otherwise, and peered into the crowd of people on the other side of the room.

The music was a low, repetitive sound that sent vibrations through them. Perhaps another drink and they'd find themself tapping a foot along with it. They stepped forward to the bar, finding Makoa stood behind it, pouring a pair of drinks. He looked up at them for a moment, did a double-take and laughed.

"Hound!!" He put down the bottle and pulled them into a hug, they stiffened, though Makoa didn't seem to notice. Pulling away. "Good to see you here, brotha, you look," he pulled his fingers together and kissed them, before opening his palm. They recalled this was a... chef's kiss? "Divine! Can I getcha anything?"

"I am told Elliott was looking for me?" They said, tilting their head again.

Makoa beamed. "Oh he sure is, won't shut up about ya, you're in for a good night Hound, I'll tell ya." He raised an arm towards the speakers and pointed out the familiar face in the crowd. "He's just... wait."

His pointed finger moved and a second Elliott appeared. Then a third, a fourth, until they together had spotted a total of 10 Elliotts - Decoys.

"Oh, he's up to this shit again. Well, good luck brotha!" Makoa picked up his drinks and stepped away. Bloodhound watched him join another man across the room, handing him the second drink and resume a conversation, a softer smile on his face they hadn't seen before. They turned back to the large group of people and made their way through.

Gently pushing past swaying hips and sweaty bodies, laughter and chatter disappeared, drowned out by the dance music and they peered around. The decoys appeared to glow a faint, artificial blue, they recalled. It was the only way to tell, though always took a moment to see it. Too many times had a legend fallen as their attention turned to gunning down a trick of the light. They thought it genius, really. Elliott always undersold himself. They made a quiet promise to compliment his work more often.

They noticed one decoy catch their eye and throw them a wink as his hips swayed and hand ran up his chest. Their face heated up as they pulled their eyebrows together and looked away, only to find a second decoy a few feet away smirking right at them. They saw him turn, watching them over his shoulder and shook his hips slowly. They watched for a moment too long and almost walked into a third, static prickling their face. This one leant into them, whispering in their ear, voice robotic and garbled.

"He's right over their, gorgeous. Have a good time," He winked and vanished. They shook their head, hoping their heated face didn't appear to red. The man was incredibly attractive when he wasn't trying. A decoy didn't do him justice, but it was enough to spark something in them. 

They pushed on in the direction the decoy had pointed, finally catching sight of Elliott - actual Elliott. He was wearing dark skinny jeans and a pale yellow button-up shirt, half the buttons - unsurprisingly - not buttoned up. He was dancing, oblivious to most of the others nearby, hips swaying, hands flying over himself. Bloodhound felt shameful watching, sweat rolling down his forehead a bare chest. Their own eyes took him in, drinking every detail.

He spun around and finally caught their eye. He stopped dead and without any attempt to conceal himself, raked his eyes across their body. Bloodhound tilted their head, mouth opening and shutting, trying to give him a greeting, face flushed bright red.

"Wow." Elliott remembered himself and straightened up, muttering an apology. Bloodhound leaned in to hear what he said.

"Sorry? The music," The pointed to their ears.

Elliott leaned in close to their ear, and they were taken aback by his hot breath across their neck. "Didn't mean to stare, you look exquas - requisite -" he looked down at the floor, biting his lip and cursing, before making another attempt. "You look perfect. Thank you for coming."

He was so close to them, he could feel their body heat and immediately his mind ran away with itself. The dress was perfect for them, he wondered if they'd twirl for him, show off a little. He wondered what their bare skin felt like, arms, legs, face, their hair, wandered if they liked it to be pulled, wandered if they'd let him hike the dress up their thighs and push them against a wall.

Bloodhound didn't fail to notice a hand come to rest on their elbow, ever so gently, as if asking permission. They took his arm cautiously and he ran a thumb over their skin. They looked down at his hands for a second, only to look up and find his gaze dark, watching their eyes, reflections dancing as the many lights coming from the ceiling fell over him. Their eyes flicked over his lips, his chest and back up to a flushed face, as he panted from exertion.

Elliott's heart jumped, watching this elegant being gaze at him, the music drowning out every other sense but his fingertips across their arm and their breath on his face. Their scars decorated their face so perfectly, giving them a fierceness only a skilled hunter as themselves deserved, red lips open slightly, tongue piercing glinting. Elliott wanted to taste them, press himself flush against them, make them feel everything they did to him.

He shook himself and took a step back, looking to the floor to clear his mind - this was about them, not him.

Bloodhound tilted their head with a smile and he took a shaky breath, gestured to the side of the room, stepped back and pulled Bloodhound with him. He didn't take his eyes off them, almost walking straight into Wattson and Wraith, both who gave Bloodhound a small wave. They could only nod in response, not noticing the pair giggling at the way their gaze barely left Elliott's.

Elliott lead them to the small living area, to a loveseat in a quiet corner.

"Please, can I get you a drink?" He said, panting, still tired from dancing. "Wha- What do you like?"

"Anita told me you had some Whiskey." The hunter looked up at him, realising their hand was still in his, carefully retracting with a smile. "But, I don't want to be trouble,"

"You could never, Hound." Elliott winked and they playfully rolled their eyes, looking to the floor. "I'll get the good stuff, you and your gorgeous self just get comfortable." He turned and hastily made his way to the Kitchen. They watched for a moment, watching Ajay and a now, very drunk Octane, teasing him about something and laughing as he fumbled.

They chuckled quietly to themselves, taking a seat. They let out a small breath they didn't know they'd been holding. Elliott hadn't seemed fearful of their scarred face, put off by their tattoos or shocked at their revealed figure. It was relief, and a flicker of pride settled in their chest knowing he'd appreciated their efforts in looking good.

And not that they'd admit it, they hoped he looked as good as he did for them.

Elliott returned a short while later with two glasses of a golden coloured liquid and ice, the bottle tucked under his arm. All were placed delicately on a small side table in front of them. They took a sip and let their eyes close, enjoying the burn and the heat that filled their stomach.

"Mhmm," They turned to Elliott, his face still flushed. "That is good stuff." They smiled.

Elliott beamed. They hadn't seen their smile much. They hadn't seen _any_ of them before today. He thanked whatever gods existed or didn't for letting him have this, for letting him see such a precious, well-guarded secret. He couldn't help watch their lips as they took a tentative second sip, throat bobbing as they swallowed and _oh fuck_ as they licked their lips so tantalisingly slowly.

This was what had been beneath those goggles, that mask, this whole time. Every time they leant over him to heal him. Every time they stared him down and pulled the trigger to eliminate him. Every calculated movement he had admired so much was made by the slender, yet toned, tall and decorated person, now biting their lip with sharped canines, gracefully leaning over to place their glass down.

He pulled his eyes to his drink, trying to reign in his many, many inappropriate thoughts. He was trying to be a gentleman, show them his best side, not pop a boner in the middle of a party. He took another long breath.

He started up a casual conversation, he was good at that, and it came easily. He asked them about their day, their home, Artur, their family - though that one was a brief answer, which he gracefully moved on from. Bloodhound was thankful he was so understanding, and he listened with such intent to their every word, it was rather wonderful.

They told him about their people and why they joined their games, their favourite food, drink, snack, what they did on their days off, how they relaxed, and they learned the same and more about Elliott. And while it usually felt like Elliott did most of the talking, they felt so appreciated, included. It was strange. This was different to talking to Mirage. They noticed themselves leaning into him, watching as he occasionally shuffled closer as he explained something to them. His holo tech, his brothers, how he made his favourite drink - they were so close they could speak in whispers.

They couldn't stop smiling. Elliott asked about their pointed teeth and they explained it was a tradition of their people to sharpen their canines. He asked about other traditions, what else that was unique to them, he was genuinely interested. Bloodhound finished their drink and turned back to look into his face, flushed and mouth parted, drinking every detail they gave him.

They took a deep breath. "There is one, in particular, I think you'd enjoy."

"Oh?"

"Its a means fo declaring one's affections to another."

"Oh, like, asking someone to go out?"

"It's more like a token they would wear to show they feel the same, so others are aware, like a little trophy of someone's love."

Elliott smiled. "Like wedding rings, but not... serious?"

Bloodhound tilted their head in thought. "I suppose, though marriage seems a little more closed off than this. It is a promise of feelings, but not a means of lifelong devotion."

"I'm with you, what's the token?" Elliott took the last sip from his glass and set it aside, managing to move even closer to them, his leg brushing up against their own. They felt themselves give in to their hammering heart and need for closeness, turning a little to be against him.

"Depends on those involved. I remember someone bringing down a beast with two tusks about the size of my fingers." They held out their palm. "He gave one each to his lovers, before long they were partnered altogether."

They turned to look at Elliot's hands leant on his knees, a fraction of an inch from theirs. They licked their lips and took his palm in theirs, running fingertips along with his well-worn hands. Elliott watched, skin tingling in the best way as skin dragged over skin.

"Some make rings, yes, some pendants, some gift furs from hunts or feathers." They turned his hand in theirs. "They are worn every day." They glanced up at him, noticing him just watching their lips move as they spoke. He was entranced, they were so ethereal it was hard to look away. They told stories so well, everything he learned he had treasured, tonight had been like discovering a dragon's hoard.

"There are sometimes gifts of writing, a song, a poem, a story." They felt his hands come up to cover theirs, as if without realising. He was so close to them.

"The more personal the better." They caught his eyes and spoke in nothing but a whisper, hand having found a place against his chin. He leaned into it, eyes closed before looking up at them again. Their breath caught in their throat.

"The translation is a 'declaration',"

One of his hands found their knee and their thumb rubbed his cheek, they were so lost in each other, the shouting from the kitchen barely registered.

"What would you give?" Elliott asked, oh so quietly. Eyes lidded and slowly moving from their eyes to lips and back.

They paused for a moment. "A home." They smiled, looking down at their hands wound together, his own thumb rubbing circles into their knee.

"It is a silly thought..."

"I think that's beautiful," Elliott said, and they looked up again, his breath hot on their face.

"I would build it, myself, as much as I could." Elliott nuzzled their hand again. This felt so normal, so comforting, and so, so precious. Their heart hammered very time he moved against them, brushed skin on skin, smiled even for a moment.

"For them, I'd fill it with laughter and comfort and food and..."

Their voice stammered as Elliott's forehead met their own, his eyes dark and trained on their lips.

"...love..."

"Oh ma god, Elliott!!"

Ajay landed a hand heavily on his shoulder and he jumped, squealing and headbutting Bloodhound in the process. He shot a hard look at Ajay who furiously apologised, before looking over Bloodhound for injury, who had hastily retracted into themselves.

"Oh, I know, grill me later I need ya help-"

"Oh god I'm sorry, I'm so sorry are you hurt did I-" He hands gently patted their face, and shoulders, checking for injury.

"Elliott!! He's climbing out the damn WINDOW!"

Elliott and Bloodhound looked over to see Octavio, shirt on fire, a bottle of something in hand leaning out the window.

Ajay turned back to her disaster of a childhood friend. "We're on the 5th floor, ya _idiot_!"

Elliott's eyes blew wide and he stood, taking 2 steps away before turning back, visibly flustered.

"I'm - I'm so sorry, give me 10 minutes, max, and I'll reta- retun- be back." He glanced back at Octavio, who was now dangling by one hand. "Then we can," Double finger guns, "Get right back to where we were,"

Bloodhound chuckled, offered help but was ordered to stay put and relax, have another drink if need be. He hurried away, disappearing into the kitchen. Bloodhound sighed, sinking further into the chair, glancing at the large digital clock on the wall. They'd sat to talk for hours, it couldn't possibly be this late. They pondered over another drink but already felt rather giddy. Though that may have been because of Elliott's determination to have them a melted puddle on the ground. Gods he had all the right words, the perfect string of intimate gestures, how to make them feel so appreciated. It was torture.

There was no way he wasn't doing this on purpose. They bit their lip in thought.

They decided to risk it and to tell him how they felt. Perhaps at the very least, they could satisfy their wandering mind with a swiftly broken heart and a few nights in the wilderness alone. Which was long overdue, as it was.

They stepped into the kitchen minutes later, peering to the window - no Elliott and no Octavio. Ajay appeared next to them, once again pulling an arm over their shoulders, causing them to stoop. 

"Ya here for ya dance, eh?" She laughed loudly. "Well, I'm gonna have to say no, I might break poor Elliott's heart if I steal you away, ha!"

They grinned, blushing slightly. "I will remember your offer, felagi." They said quietly. "But, could you tell me where-"

"Ooooooooooh I see, he's taken Tavi back down to his flat, make sure he got somewhere to throw up, poor idiot got drunk under the table,"

Anita appeared, wobbling slightly. "You'd think all that stim would give him some sorta resistance." She pulled Ajay from Bloodhound, the Medic leaning into her arms and giggling.

"That boy has been a lightweight since birth!" Ajay quipped. "Elliot may need a hand with him, he hates leaving a party." She turned in Anita's arms and dragged her to the dance floor. 

Anita patted their shoulder as she passed. "They're on the 3rd floor, go get 'em tiger," She gave them a wink, and followed Ajay.

* * *

Bloodhound quietly returned the glasses and bottle to the kitchen, placing the whiskey in the cupboard to prevent anyone from finding Elliott's "good stuff". They smiled, knowing he had shared it with only them. Then quietly scolded themselves for being so sentimental and made their way out to the stairs, and to the third floor.

They slowly approached the door, trained ears catching a few words spoken in a concerned tone.

"I'm just a little fed up of them, y'know?" That was Elliott's voice. They knew not to pry but allowed themselves another moment.

"I can't deal with them, she's too important." They scowled, stepping closer to the door.

"I don't know what I'd do without her, man. They don't seem to even realise I'm unhappy with it all, that it's not even what I asked for. It's _disgusting_."

They'd known that word before. They felt a sting of pain through their chest. Had this all been lies, all their fault? Had they convinced him into thinking he _had_ to say and do all those things? Who is she? Why hadn't he told them about someone else? A secret lover? Did he not trust them? Onesided, all of it? They'd had so many good signals from him, now they were boiling over with confusion. They'd just fooled themselves into thinking his usual flirting meant something when directed at them. It had felt so genuine, so personal.

They shook their head, this was a misunderstanding. They continued forward again.

"She doesn't deserve it, they're _wrong_ , and I'll make sure they know."

He wasn't talking about them, right?

"Make sure Bloodhound knows, Amigo!"

Their face twisted. Whatever the words meant, it seemed pretty obvious Elliott meant it about them. They felt anger flicker within them and decided fresh air, a brisk walk home, and a good nights sleep were in order. They didn't need this clouding their judgement before the next game in a few days, and they had things to get done. Practical, important, meaningful things.

They hurried down the stairs, scolding themselves yet again for running away with their heart. Ignoring the persistent few tears running over their cheeks.


	3. Released

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey I'm not great at angst but here's fluff anyway which I KNOW I can do at least OK

"What?" Elliott turned in his seat to face Octavio, rolling around on his bed next to him and wildly gesturing to the ceiling. The air smelt like burnt fabric and strong alcohol, laundry covered the floor surrounding Tavi's large, unmade bed, opposite a large screen and gaming system.

"Tell them, you love them! Duh,"

Elliott scoffed and felt his face heat up, pushing his face into his palms. "Were you even listening?" He sighed, knowing Tavi was likely far too drunk to care about the idiots running his mother's care home.

"I was trying..." He said quietly, thoughts interrupted by a loud bang, recognising the sound as the hallway door slamming. 

He stood, concerned, and walked over to Octavio's front door to peer through the peephole - nothing. One glance at the now, somehow, unconscious runner, he was assured that he wouldn't get into any more trouble. He carefully opened the door, pulling it closed as gently as he could, and made his way to the stairs. He'd made it halfway down the last flight when he caught sight of a mass of dark red hair making its way out the front door.

They're leaving? Was he away too long?

"Hound!" He pushed his way through the front door and made an attempt to catch up with Bloodhound's pace, they moved stiffly and showed no sign of stopping in response.

"Hound, what's wrong? Did I fuck up? I didn't mean to take so long. If you didn't like it up there I get it, lots of noise and people," He was babbling, a little panic rising in his stomach, he stumbled, hands moving as he spoke, trying to figure out what had them clearly offended; body rigid and stoic. "And if this is about us... or m-me trying t-to ... to kiss yo-"

Bloodhound had stopped and turned before Elliott had looked up. For a split second, Elliott saw anger in the hunter's eyes. Not fury, or rage, but sad, confused anger, tears threatening to spill over flushed cheeks. There was a stab of guilt in his chest as he slammed into them and he fell backwards onto his ass, cursing and looking up again.

They stood over him, quietly, mouth stuttering, trying to find words. They couldn't voice their feelings, it was not something they did often. Confusion and hurt and guilt tore through their mind as it rolled in different directions all at once. They grit their teeth, bared and seething as they tried to make sense of things.

"I heard you, Elliott."

He looked fearful, not moving as he listened. "H-heard me?"

"'They're wrong', 'they're disgusting'," They stepped forward, looming over him, frustration from months of his unending flirting, tricks and now _lies._ "'She doesn't deserve this', you only had to tell me you had someone and I would not have..." They looked at their hands. "And yet you still tease and taunt like you want me."

Their eyes screw shut, as Elliott remained silent, pieces clicking into place in his mind.

"I was a fool to think it meant anything. Goodnight."

They turned to leave Elliott sat on the ground, who desperately tried to call after them, scrambling to his feet and running after them, but once he turned the corner they had vanished. He wandered a while, trying to catch up to them. He didn't know their address, or if they even lived in the legend complexes. He felt so lost.

And stupid, oh, so fucking stupid. He hadn't meant that about them, he could never, he just had to explain, it was just a huge, stupid misunderstanding. They were perfect, and he just had to find them and tell them and-

He felt like he was trying to catch air at this point.

His fist hit the concrete wall of the building next to him, frustration and tears blinding him of the pain as he turned, defeated, making his way home. His hands rubbed his face and balled into fists as he walked. He knew why they were acting this way. Most people would think them overdramatic, but he knew what this had all meant to them. He knew they were private, they did not share details of themselves with just anyone, let alone let them as close as he'd gotten. Then to hear him say such things after they'd given him so much of themselves...

He cursed for the thousandth time on his walk home, hoping he could clean up this mess soon. He just needed some sleep. Alone. In the dark.

* * *

He thanks whatever Gods were out there that his apartment was mostly empty when he arrived, finding Wattson and Wraith of all people tieing up a few filled rubbish bags. Wattson smiled as he entered, gesturing to the bags.

"Thought you'd appreciate a little 'elp, though most people 'ad done so before leaving, I made Renee help, though she did not seem too 'appy. But, since you gave us all a good time I-"

"Elliott? You're bleeding." Wraith took his shoulder in one hand and bloodied fist in the other.

Elliott, exhausted and still stuck in his own head, jumped a little upon seeing the injury. "Oh shit," and rushed into the kitchen to run his hand under the tap. He sighed, rubbing his face again with his free hand.

Wraith appeared next to him, opened a few cupboards silently until she found his small first aid kit, readying a strip of bandage.

"Well?" She said, leaning against the counter as Elliott stared into the sink. Wattson waited quietly, sitting on a stool the other side of the kitchen island. There was silence for a moment, save for the running water.

He sighed, recounting the story in a hushed voice. Wattson ooh'd and aah'd and made sympathetic faces as he whined and complained about the whole ordeal, Wraith was silent until he'd finished, carefully wrapping the cloth around his hand.

"I couldn't find them, I just want to tell them how dumb this all is..." He looked over his bandage knuckles. "Thank you, and thanks for cleaning. You didn't have to,"

Wattson waved a hand at him as if to say no problem, and Wraith just chuckled.

"I can't believe how stupid you both are." She said, chuckling more as Elliott shot her a pained look. "I mean, your both going to feel like idiots when you sort this out," her face turned serious, "And you're going to, because right now they probably feel like hiding behind that mask again for the rest of their life, they've been through enough."

Elliott furrowed his brow, determination settling in once again. "I will. I'm going to get them flowers, and explain, and maybe bring some of that whiskey, or that tea they like, they'd like that right? Or maybe s-something for Artur..." Wraith turned as he started babbling, held out an arm for Wattson, and headed to the door. 

"Try and get some sleep, dummy." Wraith yelled over her shoulder and Wattson gave a cheery wave.

"And I just 'ave to know what 'appens, keep us updated!" Wattson waved cheerily and Elliot returned the gesture, before heading upstairs.

* * *

Bloodhound woke late the next morning. Late nights hadn't often affected them as such, but perhaps the storm of overwhelming emotion had exhausted them. They sat up in their bed, loose-fitting T-shirt and sweatpants covering the majority of their skin. They felt silly, embarrassed, half blaming the alcohol in their system, half blaming themselves for getting carried away. They'd lost themselves in the high of the thought of feeling cared for, being the centre of attention, being loved.

Their eyes stung as they blinked in the light of the late morning. Shifting slowly to the window, opening it wide, knowing Artur would return home shortly. They turned to the Raven's cage to ensure there was plenty of food, water and treats stuffed in toys for when they returned. It was a large cage, taller and wider than the hunter stood, but Artur rarely used it besides basic necessities. It was merely a way of tricking the complex owners into allowing them an animal in their apartment.

They turned to the bathroom to brush wild hair and clean teeth, finding a little comfort in the routine. It warmed the dull ache in their chest, that they knew they'd likely be carrying for a while. Pulling the dark red mess into a small bun, loose curls tucked behind ears, they returned to their bedroom. They were not hungry, but knew they should eat. They did not want to leave, but knew they would benefit from a few nights hunting out in the forests nearby. The massive expanse of trees covered most of this planet, the tree line not far from this complex. 

They were making their way downstairs to their small, neat kitchen when there was a knock at the door. They glanced at their mask, hung on the wall in the entranceway, and took a few moments to don it, not feeling like sharing themselves again so soon. They opened the door to find Elliott Witt.

Allfather.

They held their breath, not entirely sure how to react. The man was smiling, shyly, in another, tight-fit pair of jeans and crisp, white button up, holding a small bouquet of flowers and a small red box. He'd pulled his hair up to the side, curls waving over the undercut and framing his wonderful, stupid face. His eyes could not meet thiers and they held deep bags beneath them.

He did not speak for a moment, and Bloodhound could not decide what to say. Instead, stood tall over him, silent, judging, arms crossed, ignoring the ache in their chest and the urge to pull him closer.

"I know how bad I made you feel, Hound," He started, squirming as he spoke, mouth stuttering over words. "And I know h-how much it means t-to you to share your appre-appar- face with someone and I loved every tiny detail you shared about yours-self last night." There was earnest in his voice, they crushed the flutter in their stomach it gave them. He took a deep breath.

"Just p-please listen, because I-I know, I'm about to sound like a massive asshole."

They did not move, did not speak, waiting.

Another deep breath, and he began to speak quickly. "It was a misundr- massund-, you got the wrong idea- I mean no! Well yes, but I wasn't talking about you, the- the- the "they" was my mother's care home, they're assholes and-and they weren't treating her great and I - I- Tavi was just chatting drunk at me and asked about my Mom. L-looking back he was p-probaly making a joke but-but it's been on my-my mind and they y-you - oh wonderful, gorgeous you, heard the butt end of it and now I feel like such a fucking idiot." They let him ramble, sorting through his words. "And now, oh man, I tried to f-find you last night and everything was going so fucking perfect, there's no one else, not since we got closer, you j-just - wow and I... I c-cant tell you enough h-how wonderful you are and I messed up without e-even knowing and-and I'm,"

He swallowed and looked up at them. "I'm so, so sorry, I just want, at the v-very least, j-just..." His eyes moved to the floor again. "Don't hate me."

They crumbled, his eyes were so sad and desperate, and they let out a long sigh. Then, to Elliott's surprise, a light chuckle, which only got louder as they realised what had happened. Elliott let a cautious smile cross his face. Their laughter sounded like music.

"What?"

"I believe I owe you an apology too, Elliott," The laughter calmed, and they stepped closer, slowly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I could never hate you. And I seemed to have let my own fears get in the way of the truth. I was..." They sighed, looking to the side. "I was so scared that this... was not real that I made it seem so." They looked up again, Elliotts face flushed and lips parted slightly, Bloodhound was sent crashing back to the night before, hand in hand with the man before them, feeling warm breath ghosting across their bare skin.

"Forgive me, Elliott."

"But I fu-"

"You did nothing wrong, gleðja," they spoke quietly, now holding his face in their hands. "I am the one who has made you feel this way, I made you feel bad for simply being yourself, and I feel a heimskur. I am truly sorry."

Elliott was quiet, licked his lips slowly in thought and a smile split his face. 

"Guess it was pretty dumb, huh?" He giggled, and Bloodhound gently placed their forehead against his, forgetting the mask.

"Ouch-"

"Sorry,"

More laughter from the pair of them.

Bloodhound quietened, letting out a long breath. "In all seriousness, forgive me," They stepped back, retracting their hands, looking to the floor.

"All is forgiven sweetness," Elliott wiggles his eyebrows and looks down at the gifts in his hands, stepping towards them again. "Thought I'd spoil you given we both had a pretty crappy night and... maybe, w-we could," He was so close, looking right up into the lenses fo their mask, "start over?"

"I would like that, Elliott." They let their voice lower, dragging out the man's name and didn't miss the small shiver over his shoulders. They stepped back into their home, swiftly removing the mask. "Please, come in,"

They lead them to their plain kitchen, fetching a vase and water for the flowers.

"I appreciate this very much, Elliott, it was not necessary though,"

Elliott removed the wrapping and placed them carefully, taking a moment to arrange them.

"I was absolutely necen- necle- needed. I wanted to, anyway."

It was such a strange moment, a little domestic but soft, warm, loving. Elliott pushed the small box into their hand once satisfied with the flowers.

"Open it, please. I hope you like it." He said, watching them examine the box carefully. It was just bigger than their palm, as rattled lightly as they shook it.

They squinted at him playfully. "What is it?"

"Just open it!" He chuckled.

They pulled the lid open to find a pair of earrings, gold, shining and shaped like long feathers. The details were fine and delicate, a small red stone on the pin where it would sit in the ear. Elliott drummed his fingers on the counter, waiting, as they gazed open-mouthed at the expensive gift.

"Elliott this is... too much you should not have spent this on me-"

"Don't even think about Houndie, please." He took the box from them. "C-can... can I put them in for you?" He looked up, flushed.

They smirked, stepping right into his personal space and watched Elliott's throat bobbed in response, watching them closely. "Please, Elliott."

He let his eyes linger on theirs for a moment, cheeks flushed all over again, before carefully removing the first earing from the box and placing it to one side. He leant forward, brushing a strand of hair to the side so he could see their ear, they tilted their head to the side, hands finding his hips, delicately holding him just not close enough.

It took a good amount of will power not to run his mouth along the exposed flesh, opting instead to gently hold their ear, slotting the pin into place and fixing the backing. He reached for the other, heart-pounding and took a deep breath before he looked up at their greyed eyes. They were full-blown, dark and watching intently, the grip on his waist tightening just a fraction as he bit his lip, gasping and they finally pulled him flush to his front.

"Do not get distracted, kærust," They tilted their head to the other side. Elliott pushed their hair aside again, running his fingers through it for a moment.

"Trust me, Houndie," He finished attaching the second earing and placed a careful had on their chest, his other holding their chin. "Ain't no one else getting my attention right now."

They blushed. "You spoil me, I do not deserve such fine things from you," they looked down, suddenly aware of their situation, so close, so riled up, so treasured and warm.

The hand of their chin has their face snapping right back where it was, they gasped, ending it in a quiet growl and Elliott held them in his gaze. "I wanna spoil you, and you do deserve it." The hand let go of their chin and joined the other on their chest, his forehead once again leaning on theirs.

"They suit you, Bloodhound," The name rolled of his tongue and they snapped, done teasing, done wanting.

They pressed their lips to his and his arms wound around their neck, embrace tightening as their hands moved up his back. They both let out a sigh.

"Fucking, _finally_ ," He breathed.


	4. Discussion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Woah glad you guys have been enjoying this all so far, heres some spice!!! <3
> 
> SOME MAJOR, DYSPHORIA IN THIS, bloodhound has a peen, referred to as cock/peenis, and gets nervous about elliott seeing it.
> 
> Let me know what you think? I havent writting much smut. <3

The taste was perfect.

Elliott's mouth moved against theirs, tongue dipping ever so gently between their lips, soft and passionate all at the same time. They let out a deep sigh and their hands wandered, one finding a way through thick hair and the other his waist, squeezing and pulling his body flush to theirs. The short gasp the trickster let out was such a beautiful sound, they needed more. They pushed into his body, aiming to pin him against the counter, but he beat them to it.

Their back hit the kitchen wall and his hips leant against theirs, they watched him lean back from the kiss to look at them. Elliott let out a low whistle - their eyes were dark and lidded, face flushed, panting, head leaning against the wall. Did he really have that much of an effect on them? He did that? A surge of confidence found its way into his body and he allowed himself to watch them for a moment longer.

"You're staring, elskan," a slight chuckle followed their words.

Elliott shot them a grin, a smirk they were all too familiar with. He leaned in, hand pressing against their chest, and spoke lowly in their ear. 

"Just trying to figure out the best way to take you apart," He traced their ear with the tip of his tongue, delighted with how their body arched against him.

"Gods,"

He moved down to mouth at their neck, pressing teeth against the pulse point, sucking marks into the skin, running his tongue over the web of scars that covered them.

"Elliott..."

His hands slid down to their waist, thumbs rubbing circles into the flesh exposed as their shirt rode up, revealing their body.

"Elliott... we should..."

He was so lost in them, their taste their smell, the small, breathless noises they made, the way they said his name. He was beyond intoxicated, wanted more, more, more, more...

"Elliott!" There was a small slap to his shoulder and his eyes snapped up, fear worming its way into his expression.

"Oh, shit, d-did I-I, I should've ch-check-checked if you wanted to -to carry on or not-" He tried to take a step back but strong arms pulled him right back to where he was, flush against their heated body, he swallowed hard.

"Elskan, please," two soft hands cupped his face, pulling his gaze to theirs. They smiled gently. "I don't think there is anything I could want more right now, you certainly have a strong, um, effect on me." They blushed - god they were more adorable by the second.

"What can I do for you, Hound?" He was quiet, watching them carefully, hands rubbing their arms as they sorted their thoughts.

"There may be a few details you should know beforehand..." They looked to the floor.

"You're not a virgin, are you?" Elliott giggled and received a gentle shove to his shoulder. "Sorry, sorry, heh,"

"No, and I'm sure you are not either, hmm?" Elliott shakes his head.

"Got a fair amount of experience, lucky you, eh?"

They blushed, another sweet smile crossing their lips before it dropped and they seemed to take a deep breath. "Forgive me, but some of my own experiences have meant others see me differently, given certain body parts. I am... hesitant, to share."

Elliott held their gaze for a moment, confused.

"I, I don't..."

"My genitals, Elliott."

A lightbulb, somewhere in Elliott's brain, lit up.

"Oh... Oh! Oh, Houndie, you don't need to worry about that," He kissed their forehead gently. "Whatever you got going on down there, I respect you, I won't see you any differently. You're perfect no matter what, alright?"

They let out a small sigh, followed by a contented sound. "You are softer than you look, Witt."

His face mocked offense. "Excuse, me, I-I am not soft."

They laughed, relief washed over Elliott, and he felt his shoulders relax.

He watched as they took their lip between their teeth, pointed canines poking out. He placed a gentle kiss on their nose, then moved once again to catch their lips. His heart was thundering in his chest, swelling with pride as they could trust him like this, letting him see their vulnerabilities. 

He swore to himself at that moment, he would do everything he could to make them feel good, for as long as he could.

Starting, by taking them to the bedroom.

"So, you sure you want to do this?" His voice was low, the slightest shake finding its way through.

"I am, dearest, are you?"

"Oh, fuck yeah,"

And with that, he was pulled by his hand towards the stairs.

* * *

Hound found themselves with pressed between their unmade bed and the warm body of famous Legend Mirage, who was being far too polite for their liking.

His hands wandered across their hips, up the sides of their waist, face, through thick red hair, pulling and squeezing lightly, drawing sharp gasps from their lips between each deep kiss. They were just about to push him off, switch places and initiating something more when Elliott leant back and gave them such an utterly _loving_ look, their breath caught in their throat.

He was panting, just as riled up as they were. He swiped the tip of his tongue over his lips before asking, voice deep and slow, "Let's get you undressed, huh?"

His hand rand up from their hips, tucking under their shirt and hesitating just long enough to catch their eyes again, searching for any discomfort, before pushing his hands upwards. They felt the familiar fleeting moment of concern, wandering what Elliott would think of their scars, tattoos, tummy, piercings. It always built during the few times they had revealed more of themselves to others, some responses being less than positive. They look to one side, lip between their teeth and more skin is exposed.

All worries out the window as they heard Elliot breath a low "Fuck yeah..."

They looked down, panting, feeling their cock twitch as Elliott leans down to lick across a particularly rough scar on their abdomen, following with a soft kiss. Its all they can do to keep quiet, but the light buck of their hips gives them away. A dark chuckle from Elliott has them blushing, looking away again in embarrassment.

Elliott dragged their shirt up the rest of the way, helping them sit up with a strong arm around their waist. His face brought close to theirs. His eyes drag over their chest, his free hand roaming over bare skin. 

They had a broad, flat chest, a light spattering of red hair between their pectorals, trailing down their stomach and beneath their waistband. Their muscles were deliciously well defined, with a small, round stomach cradled between pointed hip bones. Elliot found himself licking his lips yet again, eyes wandering over their abdomen, shoulders, all decorated in a myriad of tattoos - symbols, sigils, foreign lettering. It was incredibly attractive, a low groan rumbled through his chest when he caught sight of a nipple piercing.

What really got Elliott, were the scars. A cluster across their left side, leading down from their face, along the shoulder, arm and waist, looked like lightning on their skin. A few more defined, deeper scars littered their chest and stomach, battle scars and hunting wounds - his dick throbbed as he watched them squirm beneath his gaze. He leant forward.

"Always did find scars kinda sexy..." He all but whispered into their throat.

They let out a low groan and their head fell back, hips twitching again.

Elliott took the chance to move over them again, laying them down and taking time to run fingertips over their chest, kissing down their neck to a nipple, sucking lightly. Bloodhound let out a sharp gasp, hand flying up to his shoulders, balling their fists in his shirt. He moved to the other only to find the small ring piercing.

"Fuck me..." He mumbled against their skin.

"Trying..." They breathed, "You're taking... your time though," A light chuckle followed their words, cut short as Elliott bit down against their pierced nipple, pulling a loud cry from them.

"Darling, from the state you're in, I could have you cumming in your pants in minutes." He looked up at them, eyes dark and grinning widely, before turning his attention back to their bare chest. 

Bloodhound let out a frustrated huff, squirming beneath his tortuously slow hands, teasing tongue tracing every visible scar. 

Elliott's hands moved lower, thumbs finding the waistband of their joggers. 

Bloodhound felt another wave of anxiety filter through the back of their mind.

The few, fleeting partners they'd had in the past had always had mixed reactions to this point. Their first, they remember too well, because it had sparked an uncomfortable conversation about gender and sexuality in reaction to seeing their penis. They'd expected something else, blamed them for not telling them, even gone as far to call them disgusting. Bloodhounds next encounters were a lot more fleeting, meaningless, and they tried to take the lead as much as possible. With more recent partners they had even been reluctant do more than pleasure the other, promising they didn't need anything themselves. If they had control they could introduce things at their own pace, and it took out a lot of the fear that came with revealing themselves.

Elliott's mouth reached their waistband and began pulling on their joggers.

For a moment, Bloodhound grit their teeth and prayed for a positive reaction, their arms came up around their chest, shoulders tensing, eyes screwed shut without realising. 

Their stomach flipped.

"Oh, no baby, I won't have that."

They opened their eyes to find Elliott's face before theirs, eyebrows knitted together in concern. His eyes were soft, they felt hands combing their hair and caressing their face, felt their body relax, though they didn't realise how nervous they must have looked.

"I'm sorry, I didn't-"

A thumb swiped over their face and they realised a tear must have left their eye. Elliott registered their look of confusion and pressed a gentle kiss against their lips. "Hey, hey darling, I got you, I got you." Another tender kiss and they finally melted back into the bed.

Elliott looked over them, they would not look him in the eye.

"Did I go to fast? did I say something? P-please tell me-"

"No! No, gods no..." They took a breath. "I don't usually react like that, I didn't, It's been a little while I-"

"Darling it's alright, okay? B-bodies are w-weird right? Do things we don't want, make us feel..." He gestured, trying to think of the right word.

"Wrong."

Elliott felt his heart shatter.

"They can do, y-yeah. Doesn't mean it's true though. You are you like you're supposed to be, regardless of what other people, or your own head, say." He tapped a finger on their forehead as he spoke. he took a moment, watching their expression closely. They nod slightly, looking up at his eyes. He smooths their hair behind their ear.

"I can't say I know what it feels like, but, I-I do know that bad sex can leave you with a lot of anxiety..." He looked to the side for a moment, they placed a hand on his arm, giving him a cautiously curious look. "So if you'd like to stop I to-"

"No, no Elliott, I want to continue, please." They take his face in their hands. He nods, smiling gently.

"Is there anything we can do to make it easier for you?" Elliott, voice quiet and calm, turned his head to kiss their palm, the hand that wasn't currently leaning on came up to rub their side.

Bloodhounds heart was hammering with adoration. He looked at them with such awe and care and spoke so kindly to them, patient, understanding, currently slathering them in attention. They couldn't quite process it. Their mind slowed as the man above them continued to press soft kisses into their hands, cheeks, forehead.

"Let me lead?" 

Elliott smiled in response, "Absolutely bab-"

"Please don't think it's because I don't want you to-"

"You don't have to explain baby," They leant into his touch as they caressed their face again. "But be warned," He wiggled his eyebrows, sitting up beside them, pulling them to kneel and holding their waist.

"I will continue to remind you," a kiss on the shoulder,

"That every bit of you," a kiss on the other shoulder,

"Is perfect," chest,

"and delicious," a long, open-mouthed kiss on their throat that made their eyes flutter,

"Until you let me take care of you," He took their chin in his hand and pulled them into a passionate kiss, teasing his tongue between their lips and drinking in the breathless moan he pulled from them.

He leant his forehead against theirs, panting in time with their heavy breathing, "No matter how long it takes, so take your time baby,".

The smile on their face was brighter than ever. Elliott beamed, seeing their cheeks redden as he dishes out more and more affection. They leant forward into another kiss, chaste and gentle, a thank you. His heart was swollen with adoration for the person in his arms. He didn't think it was possible to feel so overwhelmed without having even gotten either of their pants off yet. There were so, so many implications to the intense bundle of feelings soaring through him, but they could discuss this later. He knew that they wouldn't leave him, he knew by the way they were looking at him.

* * *

"Right, darling, how we doing this?"

"Lean back, elskan," Their smile was so beautiful, he couldn't look away. "You still have too many clothes on," They giggle, pulling at the hem of his shirt.

They lead over him, two pairs of hands working at the buttons of the trickster's shirt.

"Aw fuck that," Elliott grinned and pulled the shirt over his head, the sound of buttons flying across the room and clattering on the floor had Bloodhounds eyes open wide. They looked back and they both fell into a fit of giggles. 

"Someone's eager," They quip, earning a quiet hum in affirmation.

They ran their hands over his chest, dipping down to pull him into a kiss, pressing their tongue to his and pulling a groan from him. Their mouth trailed down his throat, beginning with gentle kisses. His skin tasted divine, like sweat and skin and _him._ they dragged the flat of their tongue along his pulse.

"Nggh," His head tilted to the side and they took it as an open invitation.

They nipped and sucked at his skin, pulling at it with sharp teeth. Elliott was not quiet in the slightest, sucking air between teeth and letting out high pitched moans. They felt their cock begin to harden again as they marked his skin, over and over, intoxicated by the noises he was making.

Elliott was writhing, breathless, and so, so hard, it was embarrassing. Their hands wandered over his sides, squeezing his hips and travelling up to his chest. The tips of their fingers found his nipples, and his head fell back with a moan. 

A pause in their movements prompts Elliott to look down. They looked up at him with a wicked grin.

"Oh, lord I- Ahh! Hound!"

They pinched his nipples, one between each thumb and finger, rolling the buds and grinning down at Elliott. He squirmed and gripped their shoulders, crying out and tried desperately not to rut up into their hips.

"Hey, that's not- Ahh! God, that's not fair, baby I- Ooh god!" 

"Sensitive, aren't we?" They practically purred in his ear, before dipping down to lick over his nipple.

"Fuck!" He let his hips rut up into theirs, twitching and grabbing at their waist.

"Gods Elliott, you look beautiful." Another swipe of their tongue had Elliott moaning loudly, hips bucking up again. Bloodhound let out a huff. "You could learn to sit still, however."

"I can't with that... mouth..." He squirmed again as they sucked at him, earning another frustrated huff. 

"I said, sit _still."_

They had his wrists in their hands and pinned above his head before he could realise, he looked upright as they pressed their hips down over his, grinding down against him. 

Both let out a low moan at the sensation, Bloodhound bit their lip, stilling and keeping Elliott's hips still beneath them. They could feel his hardness pressing into their hips, causing them to twitch, another moan leaving their mouth. Elliott tried desperately to thrust up against them, whimpering.

"Such pretty noises, elskan." Their breathing was ragged, voice low.

"P-please move, I'll sit still, please," He pleaded quietly looking up the fire in their eyes. Something changed in their expression, teeth tugging at their lips yet again, eyes closing for a moment, as if in restraint. Elliott grinned.

Revenge.

"Please, please move! I'll be good, I'll be _good for you_."

They let out a shaky breath and shuddered. Elliott watched them swallow.

"Ummf, Elskan," They ground down against him again, "Ohh, gods." 

"So hard for you, baby, please,"

"Such pretty noises..."

Their hands moved from his wrists and they shifted over him. They crawled down his body to nose at his painfully obvious bulge.

"Want to hear more, elskan..." They pulled at his belt. "Please? Let me make you feel good, _make you sing, Elliott_."

Elliott groaned, reaching down to frantically undo his belt. They waited patiently before tugging them and his boxers down and to some forgotten corner of the room. 

"So perfect, my darling." They smoothed their hands over his hips, taking in the sight before them.

Elliott was a perfect size, thick, with some length, but not too far above average. Bloodhound had always found the idea of an enormous dick rather grotesque. Needless to say, they had no complaints with Elliott's, thick enough to feel the drag, long enough to reach the back of the throat...

They swallow, letting out a shaky breath and smiling down to Elliott. He looked wrecked. His hair was sticking up, cheeks and chest flushed, leaning on his elbows and watching open-mouthed, Bloodhound between his thighs.

"God..."

_Bloodhound between his thighs._

They lead down on their stomach, arms wrapping around his hips and wasting no time in licking a strip along his length. Elliott bit his lip, groaning as the pleasure coursed through his body.

"Let me hear you, Elliott," They took the tip of his cock into their mouth, pressing his hips still when he bucked in response.

"God, Hound, I-don't, shit..." his words were lost to a string of loud moans, eyes fluttering shut as they pulled more of him into their mouth. It felt so warm, so wet and it made him dizzy, his hand found their hair and hearing them whimper, as he pulled, had him twitching in their mouth.

"Like that, darling?" 

They hummed, dragging their mouth back up his length and starting a slow pace, Elliott tugging them back up each time by their hair. Elliott did indeed sing, refusing to let himself hold in any noise, knowing just what it was doing to Bloodhound. He leant forward, watching their hips rutting against the mattress, eyes closed and groaning, sending subtle vibrations through Elliott's cock. 

"Shit, Baby look at you," He was panting, dizzy, heat coiling between his thighs, he was dangerously close. "Need me to touch you, baby? Need to touch yourself? Huh?"

They let out a low moan around his dick, eyelids fluttering open. 

"Can't talk with your mouthful baby," They continued, watching him twitch and squirm - of course, they knew he was close. "Baby please, too close, too soon..."

They didn't stop until he pulled their head back by their hair. They panted over his heated flesh, grinning wildly and Elliott clenched his teeth, trying to still. 

"Let me touch you? Huh, Hound?" He sat up, pulling them with him, trying to ground them somewhat with a hand on their back and another on their cheek. "Is that alright?"

They nodded, taking one of his hands and guiding it to the bulge in their trousers. 

"You sure baby?" Elliott held their face up to look them in the eye.

"Please, _please_ Elliott."

_Fuck._

He pressed his palm against them, feeling their length and letting out a puff of air as they gripped his shoulders, whimpering quietly. They were big, a good bit bigger than Elliott at the very least. He sucked air in through his teeth at the thought, the thought of them splitting him open on their dick, choking him with it, grinding it against his own.

"Darling, you're so hard for me," Another whimper in response, Elliott grinned as they squeezed his shoulders and ground against his stilled palm.

"All for me, hmmm?"

His hand moved up and slowly sunk below their waistband, hesitating just a moment, looking up at their face.

They nodded. Before shyly adding, "Just, keep the trousers on...perhaps,"

He smiled, nodding and pressed a kiss against their lips, dipping his tongue between, before moving his hand below their waistband and smoothing his fingertips over the soft skin beneath. 

"Gods Elliott, I- Ooohh..."

He set up a slow pace, stroking them and squeezing as he moved from base to tip. They moaned in his ear, chanting praise and gripping his shoulders. Elliott was revelling in the feeling of their skin against his, looking down that their flushed, trembling body and licking his lips, high of the feeling of knowing it was him doing this, it was Elliott absolutely wrecking Bloodhound, hunter the gods have sent.

"Elliott, Gods, shit! Elskan, Er svo gott, Er svo gott, Ahh!"

"Oh, baby, look at you, so perfect, so gorgeous, all for me, huh?" He muttered into their shoulder, their words drowning in the sweet noise they made, pleasure becoming overwhelming.

"Can, can I?" They placed a hand on his thigh, he twitched in response.

"Please baby, touch me, Fuck!"

They took him in their hand and matched his quickening pace. It didn't take long before he was shaking, clawing at the flesh of their back, trying to keep them both upright and still kneeling. His hips thrust up against their hand, their movements getting sloppy and their moans turned to cries.

"Don't stop, please- fuck! Hound, FUCK! Bloodhound!" He cried out, so close, so so close.

"Syngdu fyrir mig, shit! Elskan!"

Elliott came, hard, cum streaking over Bloodhound's and his own body. He desperately tried to keep focused on Bloodhound, and they followed him over the edge seconds later. They cried out - almost shouting his name and spilling into his hand and their trousers.

They stilled, breathless and satisfied, before Elliott gently laid them down onto a pillow, following a moment after to try and catch his breath.

They were floating, watching Elliott settle on their chest, their arm naturally coming up around his waist. It had been quick, it had been a while, their focus on other things, but thank the Allfather they had shared this with Elliott. They hoped, at that moment, they'd have many more times like this with the trickster. Elliott was now smiling up at them, eyes soft, hand rubbing their chest as they caught their breath. They smiled back down at him

Oh he got them good.


	5. Ongoing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welp, here it is, the last chapter, I actually finished a fic haha!  
> Please enjoy a lot of smut and fluff

The talk later that evening had been everything to Elliott. They had both stirred from a short nap, sticky and drunk on the affections of the other when he had pulled them close, cradling Bloodhound's face. His heart throbbed at the smile they gave him, winding their arms around his neck.

"So, I-I'm really, really hoping this isn't a one-time the-thing... because I'd really, really like to do this more..." Elliott all but whispered, forehead against their own.

They grinned. "As would I, elskan." Their hand rose to run fingers through his hair, earning them a quiet hum. "I would like nothing more than to have you as a partner,"

Elliott leaned into their touch. "Just to be clear, that's a ro-romantic partner, right?"

"Yes, dearest," A small giggle. "Though, perhaps we should wait a while before telling others..."

A short while later, Elliott and Bloodhound had quietly discussed many important details. They would keep their relationship a secret for a short while, get used to each other and the idea of being together, before going public. Bloodhound had laughed at this, joking that they would break millions of Mirage's fans hearts. Elliott had said he didn't care, he only had eyes for them, making Bloodhound blush bright red. 

They'd also discussed sex, Elliott confirming he was pansexual, into whatever, while Bloodhound had yet to find a particular label, but was content otherwise. Elliott had taken many partners in the past, experience in all manner of positions and kinks while Bloodhound knew very little of what they liked. They apologised several times for not being ready for certain things, each time they were reassured, kissed, reminded that Elliott was content with simply knowing them in this way.

They'd discussed boundaries, turn-offs, and that until they were ready to expose themselves fully, Bloodhound would lead in future. Elliott had teased them after they had clearly enjoyed hearing him beg, saying they should "lead" a little harder next time. They had slapped a hand over his mouth in embarrassment, laughing along with him.

Everything else they decided to tackle as it came. Both expressed trust in the other to be cautious of public affections, though agreed a slip up would not be the end of the world. They'd also both be content in polyamoury, if another found their way into their world naturally, so be it. Though this was day 1 of Elliott and Bloodhound, this was something to consider later.

"Is this okay? You are comfortable with all that?" Bloodhound asked, still snuggled against Elliott's chest.

"Sounds perfect to me darling." He sighed. "Though, I really, really would appreciate a shower right now."

They laughed, pointing in the direction of the bathroom. They watched as he, still naked, sauntered his way from the warmth of the bed, grinning back over his shoulder when he caught them staring.

The same grin he wore when he left the bathroom a short while later, clean, dry and still completely naked. 

They opened their mouth to speak but were cut short. "Don't even, you know you're loving it." He wiggled his eyebrows as he retrieved his underwear, bending over slowly in front of them. He had laughed as they covered their reddening face and made it to the bathroom themselves.

* * *

The next few months had been heaven. The pair tried their best to hide their affections, but the other legends soon caught on. They spent far too much time at each other's apartments, talking about things as domestic as shopping lists during games, the small touches, just out of range of platonic, the inside jokes, and ofcourse the unavoidable onslaught of Mirage's flirting suddenly taking a target turn towards Bloodhound. He tried his best, but they knew he would have struggled to keep his mouth running away with itself. 

They hadn't gone much further with sex, though once in the privacy of their own homes they could not keep hands to themselves. Bloodhound was especially grabby, pulling and holding Elliott close whenever they wanted. The trickster loved it, asking on several occasions if they'd handle him a little rougher in the bedroom. They would blush and promise to work up to it.

They'd finally told the other legends after getting caught on the dropship. Elliott had gotten himself particularly riled up over some new outfit sponsors had Bloodhound in, all black and red and tight-fitting, really "showed off their ass". Ajay had wandered into the small kitchen only to find Bloodhound's mask pulled to one side and their teeth on Elliott's neck as he whined. She'd all but yelled. 

"OH MA GOD I KNEW IT."

The pair backed away from each other as Bloodhound hastily re-attached their mask.

"Doctor-patient confi-confide- Secrets!!" Elliott yelled back. Scrambling to hide his arousal as Bloodhound stood silent, watching him fumble.

Later that evening, along with a whole lot of grinning from Ajay, they had announced they'd been dating. Everyone seemed pretty unsurprised, offering small congratulations and happy words. Though they didn't seem too pleased about the increased amount of PDA and soon some began dreading the "third wheel" position in trios.

The media caught on soon enough, though seeing as Bloodhound didn't really do press, Elliott had made sure to discuss everything with them before answering any interview questions about them. He had to walk out of one interview live on television as he was pressed unto giving up details about them. He'd refused interviews for a while until the hype died down. Bloodhound could not have admired him more and made sure to remind him of that frequently. 

Bloodhound could not be happier. They felt more comfortable walking around the other legends without their mask, attended more gatherings, even stayed behind after one match to sign fan's memorabilia with Elliott for a while. They had approached him when they felt ready to leave, and the screams of applause when he had kissed their respirator goodbye left their ears ringing. Elliott made them feel like the most important person in the world, and they let themselves feel it. Enjoyed it. Sank into that wonderful headspace where Elliott was everything.

* * *

As their sixth month began, Bloodhound had suggested they'd like to take things a little further. Elliott waited, eyes wide, as they sat across from one another on Bloodhounds bed, for an explanation. 

"I want to, uh, how did you put it..." They could feel themselves blushing. "Have you submit?"

Elliott swallowed and nodded, taking their hands. "Yeah, yeah whatever you'd like baby, I'm into that, just uh, let me know the details, and maybe a safe word y'know, and, and uh-"

"You like that idea then?" Their head cocked to the side, grinning widely, watching Elliott squirm. He nodded, watching their hands. Their voice turned quiet. "And something else, I..."

He scooted closer and held their face in one palm as they went silent. "I won't laugh, darling. You know that."

They nodded. "I want to show you all of myself, I'm ready for more if that's alright?"

Elliott smiled. "Absolutely."

They leant forward, face red and voice still a little timid. "I would like to... to fuck you, Elliott." They were suddenly breathless, his heart jumped and he had to swallow again.

His mouth opened and closed a few times, trying to find words. It gave Bloodhound a small boost of confidence in the situation.

"I want to lay you back," Their hands guide him to lean back. "And open you up."

Elliott moaned. Something he didn't expect and it caused them to chuckle, nosing at his throat and leaning over him. They pulled his arms above his head and held them there, speaking right into his ear.

"Have you make all those pretty noises, just for me." Their teeth grazed his neck and he bucked against them. They responded by pining his hips down with their spare hand.

"Have you take all of me, cum for me just like that,"

"Hound, oh fuck..."

"Would you consent to that, darling?"

Elliott nodded, whining. "Please, please, please, god! Yes!"

They sat up and stood from the bed. Elliott looked up, bewildered and watched them grin wildly.

"Then I will make the necessary preparations." They turned to their mask and coat hanging on a chair nearby, donning it.

Elliott whimpered. "Come on, Hound, that was cruel."

They stepped over to him, masked, leaning down to press their palm into his growing bulge. He moaned loudly and arched into their hand.

"Wait for me, my elskan, I will make it worth it,"

"Fuck," He grabbed the fur collar to their coat, placing a kiss on their mask. "You better."

They turned to leave and Elliott tried to clear his head. "H-How long will you be?" 

"A few hours, maybe longer." Their voice was chiding, Elliott groaned and flopped back into the bed as he heard the front door close.

* * *

The next few hours were torture. Elliott took a quick, cold shower and tried to busy himself with anything other than thoughts of this evening. He styled his hair, spent extra time choosing clothes (Hound's clothes), even moved to the kitchen to make himself and elaborate lunch. It was enough to keep his mind clear until his phone buzzed.

It was a message from Bloodhound;

_BH: Just in case, perhaps we shall use the word "Red" for safety?_

Elliott groaned. He knew exactly what they were doing. They'd done this before, short sweet reminders every few hours spent together the coming evening. Just to keep Elliott on edge, off his game, _teasing_ him.

_BH: I'm not planning anything elaborate but I want you to be comfortable._

He chuckled, imagining Bloodhound having a moment's panic after sending the message, realising it may imply some rather "out-there" kinks they hadn't discussed yet.

_E: Sounds good to me, sugar, what exactly are you planning?_

He waited a moment for a reply, before putting the phone away and continuing the stir the contents of the pan in front of him. They had expressed some interest in some kinky shit in the past, though nothing more than a few questions. He trusted them to do the proper research, he knew they were nothing if not careful and mindful of him. Plus, Elliott wasn't exactly shy in sharing what got him going. 

His mind wandered. He was happy letting them take full control, always, loved it, loved the idea of being used. Loved seeing them bite their lip and grin whenever they got to watch him touch himself. Loved their touch teasing him for just a little too long, mouth whispering things he'd never imagine Bloodhound would say a year ago. He loved it when they pushed themselves over him and ground their hips into his, using him for pleasure. His teeth sunk into his lips and his hand palmed his growing length under his jeans.

The smell of burning stopped his trail of thoughts.

"Shit!"

He fumbled to turn the hob off and pulled the burnt mess to one side to cool. He rubbed his eyes with both hands in frustration. groaning when he heard his phone buzz again. He flopped into a chair at the small, dining table for two Hound owned, and opened the message.

_BH: Are you comfortable with being restrained?_

"Fuck me, Hound..." He cursed, putting the phone to one side and looking down at the outline of a hard-on in his jeans.

An idea struck him.

He picked his phone back up and opened his camera, sitting back and angling the shot to show his bulge and his teeth caught in his lips, giving his best, innocent, but half-lidded gaze into the lens.

_E: [Photo attached]_

_E: That's a hard yes ;)_

The reply was almost immediate.

_BH: Are you comfortable with spanking?_

Elliott grinned to himself. He bet they had planned to ask these questions drawn out over the whole day, and now he was working them towards giving in and coming home early.

He pulled his shirt up and held it in his teeth, hand resting on his chest, and snapped another photo, but not before undoing his fly to show off more of his dick.

_E: [Photo attached]_

_E: Another yes, baby._

_BH: I told you to wait._

_E: I'm not touching anything, promise._

Elliott grinned again, knowing he was in such trouble for this. But, he stood, shimmied his trousers and boxers to his knees, sitting back down, letting his erection sit against his stomach and snapped another photo.

_E: See?_

_E: [Photo attached]_

Elliott writhed. He knew exactly how much Bloodhound liked to be teased, but wasn't sure how they would react now, seeing as they were trying something new. He stared at the screen, desperately trying to keep his hands from touching heated flesh. To his surprise, the phone screen lit up with Bloodhound's ID, and he answered the call. 

"Hey darling, you alri-"

"I should have tied you up _before_ I left. I knew you wouldn't behave, Elliott." Their words were soft, teasing, but Elliott's dick twitched in response and he let out a small groan.

"Let me see you."

He nearly dropped his phone trying to turn on the camera, noticing they left their own switched off. His own face filled the screen, he was flushed, shirt still up at his chest and cock free, underwear at his knees. He was almost sure he heard a low growl. That was new.

"You are misbehaving, dearest." 

"No, I'm waiting, I promis-"

"I think you're pushing it." Their voice dropped a little lower and Elliott whimpered, feigning innocence and looking up at the camera through his lashes.

"Redeem yourself. Get on your knees."

Elliott found himself moving to the floor before he could stop himself. They had never spoken down to him, only ever support and praise fighting in the ring, only ever softness and loving at home, but this voice sent shivers across his skin.

"Good. Remove your shirt." 

He shimmied his way out of his clothes, and pulled his jeans and underwear off too, lifting the phone to show them.

"Good, good."

He whined again, louder this time. "Are you home soon, baby?"

"Gods, Elliott, look at you. So needy." He could hear them growing breathless. "I'm on my way. Do not move, and I will forgive you for misbehaving." They hung up.

Elliott dropped his phone onto the kitchen table and waited, panting, hard and naked in their kitchen.

"Fuck..."

* * *

Not ten minutes later did he hear the front door open. There was some shuffling as Bloodhound removed their coat and mask, leaving them in a tank top and tight jeans. It showed off every inch of muscle they owned and didn't hide large bulge between their legs. Elliott gazed over them and they stepped in front of him, a hand coming down to his cheek.

"So good for me, Elliott," They pulled him to his feet, shaking a little from being stuck still for a while, and pulled him into a passionate kiss. He drank them down and moaned into their lips. Bloodhound let their hands roam his skin, clawing gently at his back and grabbing at the flesh of his ass. He moaned again as they pulled away, dragging by the arm to the stairs. 

He did notice them pick up a small shopping bag as they did, setting it down on the nightstand when they reached the bedroom.

"Lay down for me, elskan."

Elliott did so, shamefully spreading his legs and biting his lip and they opened the bag. They pulled out a pair of soft ropes.

"Oh god, Hound, fuck yes..."

They grinned, moving to straddle him and tied each wrist to a bedpost. They were careful, kissing each hand and gently wrapping the cord around him, asking each time if they were comfortable, each time getting a hasty nod. Elliott watched them, moving gracefully and with purpose - fuck, how much thought had gone into this?

They moved off him and pulled from the bag a small bottle - lube. Elliott let out a quiet puff of air and watched them begin to undress. Their shirt was removed and there was not a moment of hesitation as they pushed their trousers down. Elliott gasped, watching their cock bob free from their boxers.

"Fuck, you look so fucking good," He said, breathless. They were only half-hard and already he wanted his mouth on them. "You're so gorgeous, so perfect." 

Bloodhound smiled, placing a gentle kiss of thanks on hip lips. They had expected even a little anxiety at this moment, but there was nothing, nothing but want and need and love for their partner, knowing Elliott would be good to them.

They knelt between his legs, leaning over to give him one more deep, drawn-out kiss. Their hands ribbed and squeezed at hips, pecs, waist, his breathing faltered as they moved their hands between his thighs and paused as they ran a finger over his entrance.

"I'm going to prepare you now, Elskan, are you ready?" They spoke low into his ear, waiting for his breathless, "Yes," before reaching for the lube.

"Lie still for me," They warmed the slick between their fingers before pressing the first digit into him, slowly. Elliott let out a low hiss at the stretch, they stilled their hand and mouthed into his neck.

"I have you, Elliott, relax." Their finger moved out and back in, each time pressing a little deeper. He moaned lowly as they worked him open, taking their time and adding a second finger. They kept whispering praise at him, as he melted into their touch and mind ran away with the pleasure.

"So good for me, Elliott, taking my fingers so well." They gently pushed in a third, Elliott threw his head back as they stretched him further, moaning loudly. 

"Hound please, please fuck me,"

"Keep making your pretty noises and maybe I will, my darling."

He groaned, arching his back and writing at their touch. The ropes left him little room, but he found himself bucking up against their fingers.

"I'm hardly needing to move, Elliott, you use my fingers just like that..." They leant back to look down at him. "So desperate for it, aren't you."

"Fuck! FUCK! Houndie, baby, please..." Elliott watched them bite their lip, cheeks flushed as he glanced down to see their length hard and dripping. 

"God, you look so good..." He mumbled, their fingers curling in all the right places. "Please, please I want you inside me, fuck!"

He moaned loudly as they pushed a little deeper, finding his prostate and pressing against it a few times. He shook, feeling the tightness in his gut coiling.

"Just a little more, I'm not sure you deserve it just yet." Their words were followed by a growl, low and gravelly as their voice dipped again, Elliott was almost shouting.

"Please, please, please, baby I'm so close, please, want to come on your cock, fuck, let me, Ah, ah, ah!"

They followed his words with a few harsh thrusts of their fingers, before removing them entirely. Elliott wined and writhed, humping into nothing. They pinned his hips still, waiting for him to calm.

"You want me inside you, right?" They straddled him, shuffling forward until their cock rested at his face. Elliott gave them a small look of disappointment before they grabbed his hair and tugged.

"Ah! Ah, fuck!"

"Not what you wanted?" He shook his head, and they grinned. "You will get me nice and wet for you, then I will give you what you want, dearest."

Elliott opened his mouth eagerly, tongue hanging out, earning a small groan from above him. They placed the tip on his tongue and slid into his mouth.

"So pretty, look at you..." Their hips thrust themselves further into his mouth, taking care not to choke him. "Doing everything I ask, so well... And look at you, you love it." A harsher thrust at their words had them touching the back of his throat for a moment. Elliott let out a loud moan, the vibrations pulling a growl form Bloodhound.

Elliott tried to get as much of them in his mouth as he could, revelling in the groans and growls they gave him. The ropes gave him little room, and they chuckled down at him.

"So, so desperate to please me... Such a good boy."

Elliott humped into the air again and moaned against them. Another dark chuckle. 

"I will reward my good boy." They pulled away from Elliott's mouth and moved back between his legs.

Elliott was a mess. Drool dripped down his chin, face red, hair tousled, chest heaving, watching them with that sinfully innocent gaze.

"Rollover for me, here..." They flipped him over, checking to make sure his arms were comfortable in the bonds, before kneeling up behind him and admiring his ass.

Elliott whimpered and arched up towards them.

"Gods," They watched him squirm for a moment, running a hand over their length, and applying more lube.

They leant down over him, teasing his entrance and mouthing at the back of his neck. All he could do was whimper and shake and rut back against them. They chuckled again.

"Ready?"

"Yes, Yes! Oh my god- please, please, please fuck me, Baby, ah, please..."

They lined the tip of their cock up with their entrance. "Good boy."

They pressed into him slowly, sliding in easily. Elliott arched his back and cried out, pushing them further inside. Once they bottomed out, Elliott let out a long, shaky groan. They knelt up again, remaining still inside him. He continued to writhe and squirm. He babbled, "Please, please move," and "I need it, please,", pushing them into and out of him again and again, begging.

Bloodhound loved every second.

"Such misbehaviour." Was all the warning he got before they brought a hand down across his ass.

"Oh! fuck!" Elliott cried out, the sting bringing that little bit of extra pleasure. They smacked him again, a little harder, pulling another loud moan from him.

"Stay," _Smack_. "Still." _Smack_.

"Fuck, sorry, sorry, shit!" Elliott did his best, hips still twitching. Bloodhound felt him tightening around them and groaned, the sound rolling into a growl.

"Good boy," All he could do now was whimper and clench around them, waiting for something. They watched him, so desperate, so wanting. They were drunk on the power they had over him.

They leant down over him to whisper in his ear. "Good boys get rewards."

With that, they started a fast pace, fucking into Elliott and pushing deep, hitting his prostate repeatedly and he was all but screaming. Their left hand held his hips up and the other found his nipples, teasing and tugging, grunting and moaning into his ear as he lost concentration enough to speak. They mouthed into his neck and mumbled and growled words of praise. 

"So good, that's it, you take me so well," Elliott keened each time, his legs beginning to shake. "You want to come on my cock, don't you? that's my good boy,"

They quickened their pace, losing their rhythm as they felt their orgasm nearing. Elliott was so riled up it was a wonder he hadn't cum yet, but when they sat back again and angled their hips back he felt the edge near.

"So close, Hound!"

"Cum for me my good boy, my dearest, that's it," Elliott tensed up, back arching and spilt onto the bedsheets. He clenched down around them and they pushed deep into him once more, hard, stilling for a moment as they came, deep into their lover. "So good for me...Ah!"

They felt Elliott flop down against the bed, spent, and pulled from him. They chuckled darkly, as their cum spilt from his entrance when they pulled his cheeks apart. Elliott whined, watching them over his shoulder.

They leant over him, flipping him back over and kissing him deeply. They moved to undo the ropes, letting his hands free.

"Are you alright? It didn't hurt too much? It felt good?" 

He stopped their anxious questions with a hand on their chest. "Baby, that was amazing, holy shit..." His head flopped back and let out a long sigh. 

"I was worried I had gotten carried away."

"Please get carried away more." He chuckled and they batted his chest playfully. 

"Wait, here, dearest, I will clean you up."

They left to fetch a damp cloth and cleared away the stickiness, though Elliott would still need to shower later on. He pulled them into his arms when they had finished. 

"I love you, Houndie."

"I love you too, my elskan."

They pulled his head against their chest, hand winding through his and stroking his hair with the other, cradling him as he drifted to sleep. Thye followed soon after.


End file.
